


Total Apocalypse of the Heart

by alleyoops, jennandanica



Series: What Remains [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, British Actor RPF, The Walking Dead (TV), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M, Walking Dead AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyoops/pseuds/alleyoops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: After the zombie apocalypse, survivors roam the UK, trying to find their families, other survivors they can trust and somewhere safe where they can actually allow hope for a future to flourish. In this chapter, Alex and Luke fall more for each other and our boys encounter another group.Luke scans the waterline, past the industrial wasteland that abuts it, his gaze falling on what looks like toll booths or some sort of customs... His brain quickly puts two and two together. "Fuck me," he says softly, zeroing in even closer, his stomach flipping hard. "It's a fucking tunnel, not a bridge." He casts a glance at his companions, a wave of nausea washing over him. "It's a fuckingtunnel."





	Total Apocalypse of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the [RPG Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read), this is NOT backstory for any of our pups in the game. Also, we apologize in advance for any discrepancies regarding weapons and UK geography and slang/terminology. We did our best but I'm sure we've mucked up something.

It turns out the apocalypse is a crappy fucking time to fall in love.

It's been two days. They have found themselves variously attacked, lost, thirsty, exhausted, hungry, freezing, boiling, and grubby as fuck – and Alex is just waiting for dysentery to strike the troops. He hasn't gotten to so much as kiss Luke since that incredible night; it's his opinion that a rushed peck on the lips before passing out after his watch does not qualify as actual intimacy.

"I think that's definitely northeast," Ryan murmurs, trailing his finger along a crease in the map, and then squinting again at the stormy gray sky.

"That's what you said six hours ago," Alex grumbles, taking advantage of the indecision and leaning back against a thick tree trunk. Fuck, he is worn out. Wants sunshine. A hot shower. A nap, with Luke. Naked. "Aren't you supposed to be able to navigate by the stars or some shit?"

Ryan's brow furrows. "Why the fuck would I know how to do that?"

"I don't know, because you grew up in the Outback, and it's huge and empty and there are no landmarks around for miles?" Yeah, Alex is a little cranky.

"I grew up in Sydney, you idiot," Ryan snaps. "Anyway, why don't you show off your phenomenal Viking navigational skills? Impress us."

"Fine." Alex holds out his hand, "Give me the map."

"You have no bloody sense of direction, and we both know it!"

"Give _me_ the map," Luke orders, sticking his hand between the two of them. "I've got the watch with a compass and I already told you it's accurate. _That_ way," not that far off what Ryan thought but enough to put them slightly off course, "is north, which makes _that_ northeast and _I'm_ leading for the next couple of hours." Christ. "Make nice, you two. We're almost there and God knows what we'll find on the other side of the bridge."

Ryan is a bit surprised by the outburst, but he hands over the map without comment. He and Alex both need time-outs right now, and there have sure been times before this when they could've used a referee. "I like you," he tells Luke, and looks at Alex, "I like him."

"Too bad. He's mine," Alex retorts, and bends down to fiddle with his shoelaces. Hiding his face, because what a stupid fucking thing to say... It's certainly true, though. The intense attraction was formidable enough on its own, but Luke has also proven himself to be a solid ally, helping clear through a huddle of walkers they stumbled on downriver, in addition to leading them to the church's supply cache in the first place. Yeah, Alex definitely wants him to stick around.

 _He's mine._ The words, casually meant as they probably are, still put a smile on Luke's face and he starts off, map in hand, a spring in his step that wasn't there before they stopped. The thought of the bridge ahead makes him nervous but he's doing his best to keep those worries at bay. As long as the damn thing is still intact, they're good and they'll deal with whatever they find there.

The rain lets up here and there, and despite a few muddy encounters with slippery footing, they cover a decent amount of ground over the next few hours. They flush out a few scattered roamers along the way, easily dealt with; although Ryan secretly hates when the pickings are so easy. It just makes him anxious as hell about the unknown numbers ahead. Twice they pass other people – once with tense acknowledgment, and a tacit mutual dismissal. And once, Alex scouts a small group up ahead, and they detour slightly to avoid them. Now that they have Luke with them, Ryan admits to himself that it's a hell of a lot easier spreading the same workload over three instead of two. But it's hard not to worry about... well, _worrying_ about someone else. At least when it was just him and Alex, that was the sum total of the world's population which immediately concerned him. Now...

But he doesn't feel the need to speak any of those assorted fears aloud.

Luke frowns, stopping in place to recheck the map. From the ridge they're on, they can see the town below and they should be able to see the bridge. Fuck. It can't be out. They can't have come all this way... "Can you pass me the binoculars?" he asks over his shoulder.

Quirking an eyebrow, Ryan slips them out of his pack and hands them over. Something about the tone of Luke's voice makes him uneasy. He tells himself to quit adding to their troubles with unnecessary paranoia.

Luke scans the waterline, past the industrial wasteland that abuts it, his gaze falling on what looks like toll booths or some sort of customs... His brain quickly puts two and two together. "Fuck me," he says softly, zeroing in even closer, his stomach flipping hard. "It's a fucking tunnel, not a bridge." He casts a glance at his companions, a wave of nausea washing over him. "It's a fucking _tunnel_."

Alex snatches the field glasses out of his hand. "...A what?" He stares in horror. It's actually two double-lane tunnels, adjacent but thankfully with a solid wall in between them. Even so... "No," he says, and takes a step back, like putting that small distance between himself and _that_ will actually make some sort of qualitative difference. "I don't do tunnels. I'm going around."

"No. Wait," Ryan insists, putting his hand out. "Let's make a plan."

"Fuck your plans, Ryan!" Alex hisses. "I'm not fucking going in there!"

"We can't go around," Luke says, keeping his voice low but firm. He gestures beyond the town. "That way's the mouth of the river with no way across, the other way's filled with fucking walkers and the next crossing is Newcastle. Newcastle had almost three hundred thousand people living in it, Jarrow had twenty-six thousand." He steps back, touching Alex's sleeve, letting those numbers sink in. "We have to cross here."

Ryan watches Alex shake his head in mulish stubbornness. "We're all going in. Together," he tells him, suddenly even more grateful than ever that Luke is here with them. "And we're also getting out of there. Together."

Screwing his eyes tightly shut against the gaping maws, Alex struggles to get hold of his anxiety. "I do not like small, dark, confined spaces," he grits out, every word level and even. _Especially not now_. "How long is it?"

"It's no longer than it needs to be," Ryan says, because really, does the distance fucking matter at this point? There's no going around. He doesn't want to waste time giving Alex a number to fixate on. "And we're all going to come out the other side. I promise you."

Slowly Alex blows out a breath in surrender to the inevitable. Then he slants a glance at Ryan. "For the record, I fucking hate you."

Ryan nods. "I accept that."

Luke blows out a breath, grateful for the way Ryan's able to handle Alex's fears. "We can take this ridge down to the waterfront and then take the waterfront to the bridge," he says, very deliberately not using the word tunnel again. "It's all industrial warehouses, wide open spaces. There's not a lot of coverage but that also works for us."

"There'll be people down there. Trying to get through," Alex says, scanning their path ahead. "And then probably people on the other end, trying to get to this side." He raises his eyes to the clouds. "Visibility's going to get even worse."

"And we'll handle it," Ryan insists, gently. But his tone leaves no room for argument. "We're planning now, we're aware of the dangers, and we'll make this work. I can lead. Luke, will you bring up the rear?" He watches the other man, silently asking, _And will you keep him going?_

Luke nods. "Yeah." A few seconds of holding Ryan's gaze conveying he gets what's being asked. "We're good." He reaches for Alex's hand and gives it a squeeze. "There might even be some solar-powered places in Tynemouth. We could have a real break."

"Yeah, that's a nice thought," Alex mutters, "except that'll fucking require sunshine." He drags his fingers through his bangs, pushing them back from his face, and follows Ryan. "Are you any good with cutting hair?" he asks Luke after a few minutes spent in silence.

"I can do something with yours," Luke says with a smile. "And solar-powered houses up here all have generators and battery back-ups that hold the sun as well." He doesn't mention that he and Paul had looked at moving up here at some point. Getting off the grid.

"Oh. Good." Alex struggles to keep the conversation going as they follow the ridge downward – anything that'll prevent him from focusing on what's ahead. "In Stockholm, that's where I'm from, they've been making a huge push for a while now for everyone to convert to solar energy. My sister was telling me," he swallows around a lump in his throat, "that ultimately they're trying to put the whole city on some kind of smart grid or something, so it'll link up everything to the same power source. I guess... I don't know how far they got with that, if they actually managed that or if it was still only in the planning stages. But that'd be pretty amazing. People in Sweden, taking hot showers..." He shoots Luke a stiff grin. "I can dream."

"I'll dream with you," Luke says, widening his own answering grin. They make it to the waterfront without incident, the lack of people – dead or alive – a bit of a surprise. Ryan leads them from building to building, checking around corners and then signalling when the coast is clear. So far, so good.

The closer they get, the narrower Alex's gaze grows. Tunnel vision, ha. But he's working to block it all out, now, everything but the next ten-meter stretch. 

Dropping low, Ryan edges down an alley, his ears straining for the tiniest sounds. He _hates_ how still it is. It just doesn't make sense. Keeping his rifle up, he grimaces at the chill fog descending on the valley. It's the last thing they fucking need.

They stop at the corner of the building closest to the tunnel, Ryan peering around the corner and then shaking his head at them.

Fuck. Luke takes a quick look, his heart sinking once again. Walkers. A solid fucking wall of them on this end, the tunnel filled with cars and backed up several deep. Presumably it's the same on the other side. And god only knows how many there are inside. "There's too many," he whispers.

Craning his neck to take a peek, Alex frowns. Ducks out of sight flat against the building again, strategies and counter-strategies whirling through his brain. 

Ryan looks at him. "You still have that grenade, right? That'd take a shitload of them out all at once."

"We're not throwing a grenade into a goddamn _tunnel_ , you moron," Alex says. He nods a question at Luke. "Can you look at the map and see how much distance we have to cover in there? Seriously, this time."

"The tunnels are a mile long," Luke says, taking another look at the map. It's not the worst news – hell, it's a 10 minute walk on a nice day – but with all the cars shoved in there and all the walkers they'll have to deal with? It might as well be a fucking marathon. "We could try and distract them, draw them away, but that's not going to help us with the ones still in there – or on the other side."

"Which is why you might want some help," comes a voice from behind them.

Luke pulls his gun in an instant, the barrel aimed at the stranger.

"Hey, mate," the guy says, holding up his hands. "I'm not here to harm you. Any of you. I just thought we might team up to our mutual benefit."

The voice is a surprise, but it's the thick Australian accent which is the real shock. Ryan whips around and draws a bead on the stranger with his rifle, his eyes wide. The way the bloke is standing, though, that deliberate non-threatening posture... _No way he's really alone_. He appears entirely too confident. Ryan snaps his gaze up, wildly scanning the surrounding buildings. When he catches just a glimpse of incongruous color against the gray sky, he doesn't even bother with the curses on his lips. Just raises his rifle and aims anew, with a mutter of "Sniper."

Alex's jaw tightens. "Just the one?" he asks Ryan, making sure the stranger can hear him. His own gun is still aimed at the stranger, his brain leaping into overdrive and making automatic calculations in case the guy moves one way, or bolts in a different direction, or... "If there are only two of you, I don't see how that's going to be a ton of help to us."

"There's actually three of us," the stranger says with a grin. "But that one, up there," vaguely pointing at the other buildings, "the one you don't see? He's the real thing. Ex-military, trained sniper. If we wanted you dead, you'd already be dead. And Keira, up there," gesturing to the one the guy had pinpointed, "she's taken lessons from Antony so she's pretty damned good too." He blows out a breath. "Seriously, guys. We have weapons better than what you have and we're willing to let you use them. We just need the numbers if we're going to make it through there." 

It would be tempting to leap at the offer of help. It _would_ be tempting, but for the small band of strangers Ryan and Alex decided to trust, the last go-round of this... "How long have you been staking out this spot, waiting for others?" Ryan asks. "If there are six of us now, what's your plan?"

"We've been here for five days," Sam says, hoping he can get through to these guys. "We've seen two other groups come through. One was huge, maybe a dozen people. They had knives, crowbars, a handgun or two, but we weren't comfortable with the idea of approaching them. They killed a few zombies, straggled into the tunnel and that was the last we saw of them. We didn't see anyone come out the other side." He shakes his head. "And there was another group yesterday, three people, but it was two guys and an old woman and the way they were helping her, we knew they'd get us killed – and we were right. They got torn apart." He pauses for a second then continues. "We need numbers, more than six would be good, but six able-bodied with decent weapons? I'm willing to take those odds." Another pause, this one out and out hesitation, gauging the men before him. "We've got a flamethrower," he confesses. "We can take out the line on this side, knife the stragglers and head in, buddy up, pairs of two, everyone has each other's back. When we get to the other side, we'll deal with what's there. We can't take the flamethrower in the tunnel. If something happens and it goes up, everything goes up with it. But we have automatics, semis, machetes... and some other nifty little toys Antony brought with him."

The arsenal, if it's real, sounds spectacular. "If you really are interested in us joining up, then I'm sure you won't mind us taking a minute to talk it over," Alex says. He still hasn't been able to spot the third person on their team – the so-called "real thing" – and it's making his teeth itch. "I'm inclined to give it a shot," he murmurs, just for the ears of his mates. "What do you think?"

Ryan's mouth tightens in a frown. "I can't see any profit in them jumping us, right now," he admits, uneasy. "Unless he's completely full of shit. But I'm not convinced he's not."

"Everything about his body language says he's being upfront," Luke says, keeping his voice low. "We didn't even know they were there. They could have easily taken us out." A thought which chills him to the bone.

"Yeah, and don't think that's not making my skin crawl," Alex mutters. He slants a quick glance at Ryan, waiting.

And he waits... "Shit," Ryan whispers, and then shrugs lightly. "Okay. If you two agree with each other, then I'm on board."

Alex nods, and calls out to the waiting man, "All right, we'll deal. But we need to see your third guy."

"Okay, but keep your guns down," Sam says, making sure they do before he signals to Antony, his hand raised in the air.

Antony kneels up from his hiding place on a building a good thousand yards away and waves at them.

"Fuck me," Luke murmurs. He wouldn't have even thought to look for someone that far out and he has no doubt the man could make the shot if they put him there.

"We good?" Sam asks.

Alex squints at the flicker of movement in the distance, unnerved. "Could you hit him if you wanted to?" he asks under his breath.

His fist clenches tighter on the body of his rifle, but Ryan manages to hold it at his side – fuck, it was a struggle just to drop it in the first place. "I'm not certain," he answers in a low growl.

"Shit. If even you couldn't..." Alex lets the thought go unfinished, then nods and raises his voice again. "Yeah. We're good."

Sam blows out a thankful breath. "I'm Sam, by the way," he says. "This is Keira," as she joins him, "and the guy on the roof was Antony. He'll join us in a minute."

Ryan gives the woman a swift once-over. Very pretty, but not nearly as arresting to his attention as Sam, who, for all his would-be casual air, looks exceedingly capable of fighting dirty. "I'm Ryan."

"Alex." Close-up, the stranger is unfairly good-looking. It surprises Alex to realize how tense he is as he waits to see what Luke's reaction to Sam will be.

"Luke." He glances at Alex, giving him a small smile. He doesn't want to let these people know they're involved and he hopes Alex is on the same page.

Sam nods at them all. "Fellow countryman, yeah?" he grins at Ryan.

"We should get inside," Keira points out. "We don't have much light left and I'd rather do this on a good night's sleep and full stomach."

"Sydney, right," Ryan answers with a nod at Sam. Then he looks at Keira, asking, "Inside where, exactly?"

Antony joins them then, getting a good look at their new partners in crime. He nods at the group. At least they look like they can hold their own, which is more than he can say for the few groups they've run into.

"The building I just came from," Keira says, nodding behind her. "We've got mattresses, sleeping bags, a camping stove and food. We've even got a jerry-rigged shower."

"A shower?" Alex lights up in an instant.

"Traitor," Ryan teases out of the corner of his mouth, because he can't deny the very thought is seductive. He spreads his arms. "Everything we have, we have on us. Are there any other living here?"

"In the town, yeah," Sam says, "but they're mostly holed up, protecting their own. Most people went north or south the moment this all started." He takes another look around the corner, the zombies milling by the tunnel just like they've done for days. "We haven't seen anyone else right here other than the groups we mentioned."

"But there'll be more," Antony interjects. "There always is, and I'd suggest we get the hell through the tunnel before they come."

"First thing in the morning," Keira says, making a face at Antony. "Not everyone can perform on fucking fumes like you."

"Enough already," Sam says, a little louder. "C'mon," he gestures for the guys to follow them and leads the way inside the warehouse. "It locks from inside," he says, flipping the deadbolt, "but just in case, we move this desk across it every time we're inside." Antony helping him do just that. "There's a washroom upstairs, for one and two, and there's a bucket of water beside it to help it flush. Don't flush for one, definitely flush for two." He chuckles. "Mattresses, sleeping bags, help yourself, shower's in the far corner... keep it to five minutes max. Water's coming from the river and filtered but you still don't want it in your mouth. Drink only the stuff in the jugs," he waves again. "Thanks to Antony we have steaks and potatoes on the menu tonight."

"You've got to be shitting me." Ryan stares at Antony in wary respect. "How the fuck did you manage steak?"

Meanwhile, Alex ponderously rubs his chin. Very carefully not-looking at Luke. "Anyone got a razor?"

"There's a butcher's downtown," Antony says. "The freezer is backed up by a generator with a huge fucking propane tank. It's almost empty, might have a week left in it, if that," he shrugs, "but I've been making grocery trips in each day to bring us our dinner."

Keira digs in her bag and tosses Alex a razor. "There's a bar of soap beside the shower and some beach towels hanging over the bench beside it. They should be dry now but we'll all have to share."

Luke smiles. "You don't by any chance have a pair of scissors too?"

Keira gives him a look. "I have everything," she says, digging in her bag again. "I won't toss these to you," she teases, handing over a pair. "Just make sure I get them back."

Ducking his head, Alex tries to swallow his own smile, although he knows he doesn't succeed. "Thanks," he tells Keira. His glance crosses Ryan's, then he heads upstairs to the washroom. He'd love to assume that Luke is thinking what he's thinking...

Ryan catches that look and gives Alex the slightest of nods in return. There's no way he's going to tolerate both of them letting their guard down at once. Which means he's still on duty. "Anything I can do?"

Keira shrugs. "I'm wrapping potatoes and Antony's helping me with dinner," she says, explaining, "We do everything early here. We try not to make any noise, smells or keep the lights on past dark. If you need light, you use a candle. It doesn't carry up to the windows."

"You can help me filter some more water," Sam tells him, crooking a finger for Ryan to follow him. "We have these steri-pen things we liberated from a camping store. They use UV light to kill any organisms."

Ryan watches while Sam demonstrates how to use the pen, and follows his example, filling a litre bottle full from a huge canister, then putting the glass pen tip into the water. "Okay. Two minutes, you said?" He glances at his wristwatch. "Is it a problem if you take longer than that by accident? I mean, you can't over-sterilize it, right?"

"It'll actually shut off when you're done," Sam says. "But if it starts blinking, you're stirring it wrong." He demonstrates, swirling the glass tip in as wide a circle as the bottle will allow. "Antony says these things'll last forever so we guard them like crazy."

With a nod of understanding, Ryan copies his movement. "That's pretty cool. Have the three of you been running together long?" He's still on edge, still keeping an arm's length away. Staying alert for any sudden attacks. But he figures he might as well see if Sam is up for offering any information about his crew.

"Keira and I have been together since day one," Sam says, pouring his bottle into one of the larger empty jugs they keep for the purified water. "And we met up with Antony about a week in. Thank god. I mean, I know my way around a fight and I can handle a gun but he's a walking survivalist encyclopedia. What about you guys?"

"I didn't know them at the start. We just kind of fell in together." Ryan isn't about to reveal that they've known Luke for less than three full days. With malice and determination, any weakness can be exploited. "The group has changed a lot. You know, people come, people go... People get killed." He fills a new litre bottle to begin the process again. And his lips quirk in a shadow of a crooked grin. "What's a nice down-home boy like you doing in a shitty place like this?"

Sam laughs. "I was visiting my brother and Keira," he says, his smile fading. "She is, was, his girlfriend." Fuck if he knows. They'd spent some time trying to find Cal in the days after he hadn't come home from work but they'd had to leave Birmingham while they still could. "You?"

Ryan pauses in his work for a long moment, wondering about the silences attached to that mention of a brother. But he decides not to ask. "I was kind of on my honeymoon trip," he says instead. "Except, no bride. We broke up, and I couldn't get a refund on the tickets. Plus, the reason we planned the trip for here in the first place was because I never really did the whole gap-year thing." Scanning the warehouse shelves, he begins silently taking inventory. Clean water, a few closed-up crates which could prove valuable, a smattering of kitchen tools... Then he zeroes in on Sam's face. "Do you have any idea what's going on back home?"

"Not a clue," Sam says, shaking his head. He glances up from the bottle in front of him to see Ryan watching him and for the first time, it really hits him how good-looking the guy is. "I tried calling our mum and dad when it happened but I couldn't get through and then the lines went down completely. What news we did get just talked about every continent being affected."

"Shit, are you serious?" Ryan puts down the steri-pen, horror glazing his expression. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. "I didn't know that. I mean we heard rumors, sure, but–" he shakes his head. Then swipes the back of his hand across his eyes and gets back to work. "I guess I was still holding out hope that it wasn't everywhere."

"It might not be," Sam rushes to assure him. "They could have it wrong or maybe somewhere they're dealing with it better than we are. I mean, who knows. Somebody might have been faster to figure out what was going on."

It's a weak attempt at hope, but Ryan appreciates it nonetheless. "Whatever you do," he jokes, "don't tell Alex that. Of the two of us, I'm the optimistic one." _Shit_.

"What about Luke?" Sam asks, dumping another clean bottle of water into an almost-full jug. "Where's he fall?" Curious about Ryan's wording. _Of the two of us._

"Um." Ryan blanches at the realization of how he just stumbled, raising Sam's suspicion and maybe even giving them away. "Luke's the peacemaker," he musters up, and at least there's the comfort of truth in that. "When Alex and I get on each other's nerves, he gets in the middle and breaks it up. Lucky for Alex."

Sam smiles. "Where are you all headed?"

"Scotland." That, at least, seems like a straightforward enough issue. "You?"

Sam stares at Ryan for a moment, considering whether to let him in on their plans. Knowing the other man's feeling him out in the same damn way. "Orkneys," he says finally. "Antony says there are a few islands with barely any population – where either this thing hasn't spread or there'd only be a few zombies. The ones still populated have wind turbines, solar panels, totally off the grid and self-sufficient so if we can make it there we'll be good for years."

"Damn. That sounds like an amazing plan," Ryan murmurs. His mind began whipping up vivid images even before Sam finished speaking. But then he remembers that his knowledge of international geography has a lot of holes in it. "Sorry. Where is Orkneys?"

"It's an archipelago off the northeast coast of Scotland. I think there's like 70 islands but only a handful are habitable." Sam glances at Antony and Keira, wondering if the other man would have his head for sharing even this much. But he really doesn't care. If they could get a few more people to join them, they might have a real fucking chance of making it. Of actually surviving and creating something new. "Antony says there's one in particular – Auskerry? – that had a family raising sheep on it until a few years back – and they had some tragedy befall them, had to move off the island, and just left everything. He said it's all still there and should still be in working order."

"Amazing," Ryan nods again. He idly taps the steri-pen against his fingertip, lost in thought. "Does that you mean you're not– wait. Can this sterilize anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this light," Ryan says, inspecting it anew. Clicking it on and off and attempting to reverse-engineer it in his mind. "Do you know if, say, it could be used to kill bacteria on the skin? On wounds?"

"I don't know." Sam shakes his head. "I don't think it puts out enough UV but I'm not a doctor." He looks at Ryan. "Were you?"

"Wha–? No. No, I just... I just always liked, you know, gadgets," Ryan lies, and clicks the light off again. But he can't shrug away the sudden heaviness hunching his shoulders. He glances up at where Keira is cooking, and wonders just what the fuck is taking Alex and Luke so damn long. Except, scratch that: he's afraid he's got a damn good idea _exactly_ what's taking them so long. "So, anything else you want to show me tonight?"

"I want to show you our weapons, give you a run through but that can wait until your friends are down," Sam says, thinking Ryan's definitely hiding something but he's not going to push. They need these guys on their side, at least until they all make it through the tunnel, and further if they want to join them, but he's not counting on it. "You want a shower before dinner?"

"Yeah..." Ryan looks apprehensively at the stairs. "That'd be incredible. Just, I think Alex asked Luke to cut his hair, so I'll just, um." Lying was never one of his strong suits; and truly he never wanted it to be. "I'll just run up and give them a yell first. And I'm pretty sure I can manage a shower in under five minutes," he adds, and runs his fingers through his own hair. Which he's well aware looks atrocious. "I really try to keep my styling routine to a bare minimum these days." 

"Okay. We'll wait on the weapons demo til you're all ready," Sam says, glancing upstairs, at the closed door on the second level. He hopes like hell Ryan's mates aren't up to anything. He likes Ryan. He likes Alex and Luke too. He really doesn't want to have to kill them.

Ryan gives Sam a grin, then climbs up to the second floor. Knocks quietly on the door. "Are you lot done with the barber shop?"

* * *

When Alex first made it up to the washroom, he went right for the sink. "There's soap here, too," he tells Luke, breaking into a wide smile. God, he's probably never in his life felt so grateful for such a simple little thing.

"And a shower," Luke says, beaming back. "I can't wait to feel clean again."

"Yeah." The second the door shuts, Alex tangles his fingers in Luke's hair and kisses him hungrily. "I want to lick you everywhere," he whispers, excited by the thought of clean water and soap for so many reasons. "I want to taste you."

Luke shivers and kisses Alex back. "How are we going to manage that?" he says with a soft laugh, though god knows he wants it too. "Sneak off again? Wait til they're all asleep?"

"I don't know. That might work best: coming up here in the middle of the night and being really really quiet," Alex replies, although he's not certain whether Luke meant that seriously or not. Doesn't matter, though, because Alex is dead serious.

Luke pulls back, taking a good look at Alex's face. Realizing he means it. "Okay," he nods, willing to take the chance if Alex is. Who knows when they might get another opportunity like this. "After everyone's asleep." He smiles. "Right now, I should cut your hair. And you should take your clothes off."

Pausing in the act of shucking his jacket, Alex looks at Luke with dancing eyes. "Wait. Why do I need all my clothes off now?"

"Because otherwise you'll have little pieces of hair all through your clothes and they'll drive you crazy. Although," Luke grins, "you _could_ keep your jeans on. It just wouldn't be as much fun for me."

"Is that right?" Alex laughs, flattered. "Given that you're the one holding the scissors..." And he strips nude as ordered.

"Mm. Lucky me," Luke says, taking a long slow look up and down his lover before breaking into a full-out grin again. "You are gorgeous but the hair has to go. Bend over." He takes a few minutes to wash Alex's hair, wishing they had shampoo instead of just soap.

"Bend over, he says," Alex murmurs through a smile. His eyes flutter shut with pleasure as Luke's strong fingers massage his scalp. "And they claim romance is dead."

"Romance is alive, it's chivalry that's dead," Luke quips with a soft laugh, working the soap deep into Alex's hair before rinsing it out.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. That's my fault," Alex says, blinking away the head rush when he stands up straight again. When he looks at Luke, his eyes are full of heat. "Next time, I'll be a gentleman and let you come first."

Luke laughs again, louder this time and wraps his arms around Alex's neck, kissing him soundly. "I'm pretty sure I came with you the last time," he points out, putting down the toilet seat and gesturing for Alex to sit.

Alex doesn't want to let go of him, logistics or no. Once sat, he hooks a finger through Luke's belt loop and tugs him in, looking up to stare into his eyes. "You owe me," he whispers.

Eyes widening just a little, Luke says, "Owe you what?"

"Nudity." Alex grins in wicked promise. "I'm going to collect on that later."

"Once I'm clean," Luke says but he's grinning back. "Now hold still or you'll end up needing to shave your head."

"Fine," Alex replies in an aggrieved tone. "Talk to me. Tell me something about you." He slips his hand beneath Luke's shirt and rests it on his waist, savoring the simple connection, warm skin on his.

"Okay." Luke combs through Alex's hair with his fingers, thankful it's so fine. "I'm from Wales, originally. Moved to London when I was 17 on an arts scholarship and until recently, I was in musical theatre. West End mostly."

"Do you sing?" Alex watches him, the subtle play of expressions across that gorgeous face. "Sorry, that was a pretty stupid question. So... you sing." He laughs softly.

Luke smiles. _"Now I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?"_ he sings quietly. _"It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king composing hallelujah... hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah..."_

Now Alex openly stares. His heart thumps painfully, like a sucker punch to the chest. Because he realizes that his presumption was wildly inaccurate, a grotesque understatement: Luke _sings_ , and it nearly breaks him. "Stop," he orders abruptly, and grabs Luke's shirt. Pulling him down to kiss him hard.

Luke moans into the kiss, keeping the scissors pointed away from Alex even as he clings to the man to keep from falling over.

For long moments, Alex drowns. When he finally pulls away it's to gasp for breath, and he keeps tight hold of his lover. Still stunned and staring. Whispers, "I forgot. Forgot how beautiful music could be."

Tears sting Luke's eyes and he quickly blinks them back, confessing, "I haven't sung for anyone since this all started."

"Fuck." Alex swipes at his own eyes, then fists his hands on his knees. The truth is, he sort of wishes that Luke _hadn't_ reminded him. Even so... "Thank you," he whispers. "You... are..." He sniffles, trying to keep his shit together. "You amaze me."

"What about you?" Luke says after a moment, returning to cutting Alex's hair, slow and steady. "What did you do before all of this?"

Alex catches himself just in time to keep from shrugging. "Nothing important," he says, thinking of all the years of his life he wasted in aimless indecision. "I studied literature. Went to business school. Lived on a commune. Studied the history of feudal Scandinavia. Learned about organic farming. Tried to make it as a songwriter..." He snorts a quiet, unfunny laugh. "But I learned that I'm an excessively mediocre composer." After a second he adds, "I'm a fairly decent guitar player, though."

"Yeah?" Luke grins. "We'll have to find you a guitar. I play piano." He makes a few more snips, combing his fingers through Alex's hair again. "A bit more," he murmurs to himself then, "It sounds like you've done a lot of things."

"True." Alex grins. "The disadvantage there is that I'm not particularly good at anything."

"I can think of one thing you're particularly good at," Luke says cheekily, laughing at his own joke.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Hey, it's the End of Days – Alex isn't above fishing for a few compliments.

"What do you think?" Luke says, feeling his face heat even though he's the one who led them here. "Fucking. You're really, really good at fucking." Sex seeming too clinical and making love too prissy.

Alex catches Luke's wrist and looks up at him. _Blushing? Really?_ "You don't know that for real," he murmurs, gently teasing. "It was only once. It could have been a total fluke. Maybe actually I'm total crap."

Luke shakes his head. "You only need once. Someone can suck and get better but they don't start out like you did and then go downhill."

His grin spreads across his face, taking over. And Alex holds Luke's gaze as he licks out, slowly sucking his lover's finger into his mouth. "I was thinking about shaving. What do you think?" he murmurs, and does it again.

Mesmerized, his body responding so quickly it makes his head spin, Luke nods. "Especially if you still plan to lick me everywhere."

Alex laughs out loud. "What, you're not a fan of razor burn?" He presses a last kiss to Luke's fingertip. "Finish up. They must be wondering what's taking us so long."

Luke finishes Alex's hair, finger-combing it over and over as he makes sure he's done a decent job and not left any stray strands hanging. "You want to take a look?"

"Nah. You tell me. Do I look good?"

"You look gorgeous," Luke says, leaning down to kiss Alex again. "Do you want me to shave you?"

"Yes. Please." Any excuse to keep Luke close, for as much as they can prolong this stolen intimacy.

Luke works up a lather of soap and hot water in his hands and smears it all over Alex's cheeks and jaw, working the pores open. And then he shaves him very carefully, happy to note that the razor Keira tossed them is a new one. "Hold still," he orders again, working on Alex's throat. It may be a safety razor but it can still produce a nasty cut and lots of blood and that's the last thing they want or need.

Alex does as he's told, trying to keep from smiling. He feels oddly relaxed, comforted by the care Luke takes. And he wonders why he never realized the value of such simple personal pleasures, back before the world went to hell. Standing up, he rinses off in the sink, then runs his fingers over his cheek. Dolphin smooth. "You're really good at that," he tells Luke, and stands before him entirely nude now, without the shelter of hair and beard which he's been dwelling in for months. "Should I put my clothes back on?"

"Not yet," Luke says, stepping in close, his hands laid on Alex's chest. "I want to drink you in for a minute."

"You know the view'll be even better tonight, after I shower," Alex says, but he's tremendously gratified to know he's special to Luke in this moment, even if it's only for his looks. He slips his arms around his lover.

The soft knock on the door shatters the peace in an instant. "Are you lot done with the barber shop?" comes Ryan's muffled voice, and Alex steps back.

"Yeah. Be down in just a minute," he answers, and starts to get dressed again.

"I almost wish we could stay here," Luke says softly, watching Alex dress. The warehouse is more comfort and security than any of them have had in months and who knows what's on the other side of that tunnel.

"Don't tempt me," Alex mutters, and now he does check his reflection. He's looked in a mirror only a handful of times in the past few months, but it's still bizarre to see himself looking so normal. As if it were just any other day, in his old life. "I'd do pretty much anything to get out of going through tomorrow. But," he shakes his head, and takes Luke's hand, "Sam and them are probably right. If we stick together, this is our best shot at making it through the tunnel alive."

Luke nods. "I know we'll make it through," he says, giving Alex's fingers a squeeze. "I just wish I knew there was something to make it through to."

Searching Luke's eyes, Alex says, "There's me." Poor consolation, perhaps, but the only thing in the universe that is truly his to offer.

"Yeah," Luke murmurs, gazing back. "There is." Leaning in to kiss Alex one more time before they leave the bathroom. He takes a deep breath and blows it out. "Okay. Game face on."

By the time they finally appear at the top of the stairs, Ryan is anxious that there will be trouble. The flimsy excuses he'd made for their long absence were, well, flimsy, and he knows the three of them are already skating on thin ice with their hosts. He'll figures he'll kick Alex later for arousing suspicion, but the sight of his clean-shaved face framed by a tidy haircut erases the thought of retribution. "Holy shit," Ryan mutters, staring. "You have a chin."

Sam chuckles. "Does that make you our resident barber?" he asks Luke, giving Alex a good once-over.

"If anyone else wants an appointment, I'll do my best," Luke jokes back.

"Or you could all just give up and take the easy way out," Antony says, running a hand over his own buzzed skull.

Keira laughs. "No fucking thank you," she says. "And I can cut my own hair. It's you boys who get all gross."

Ryan huffs a laugh. "Isn't that the truth. I've got the shower," he tells Alex.

Alex nods, and gives Keira a smile. "Thank you. I can't even tell you how long it's been since I felt like a human being."

Keira smiles, ducking her head a little, surprised at the thanks. He is _really_ good-looking, a fact that was hidden under all that hair and dirt. "You're welcome. Glad I could help."

Luke glances at Alex. He's curious to see his lover's reaction to the girl. She's gorgeous and obviously into him and they haven't even talked about whether Alex is actually gay or just gay out of necessity. Fuck.

"Speaking of help," Alex says, but pauses to take an appreciative sniff of the grilling steaks. "Damn. That smells... Damn." He grins at Antony. "Anything we can help with right now?"

Good. No reaction. Luke's almost ashamed at how relieved he feels and at his sudden intense dislike for Keira. It's not like she actually made a pass at Alex or anything.

Antony shrugs. "You can make sure everybody's got water, find some clean cutlery, plates... Put the plates by the stove."

When Ryan shuts off the water and reaches through the break in the shower curtain to grab a towel, he's surprised to find a stack of worn but clean clothing waiting as well. Sam had mentioned something about a wardrobe loan earlier, noting that the two of them are pretty identical in size, but still Ryan hadn't been expecting anything. Slipping clean fabric against his clean skin for the first time in...? He finds himself dangerously near tears.

He steps out of the small curtained area – a baby swimming pool, who ever thought that up? – and joins Alex at a packed workbench up against a wall. "I've never before had an orgasm just from hot water," he says under his breath, still feeling a bit dazzled.

Alex raises an eyebrow, and laughs out loud. "Your sex life is pathetic."

"Oi. Shut it," Ryan teases in a growl, and grins when he looks up and sees Sam. "Hey," he says, and steps close to murmur, "Thank you. Seriously, I– I can't say thank you enough right now."

Sam smiles. "They look on good on you and I just washed these so..." he shrugs. "Your old ones looked done for anyway. And my jeans fit you much better." And yeah, maybe he's flirting a bit, but it's been a while and Ryan's fucking hot.

"You think so?" Ryan twists to look over his shoulder in an attempt to check out his own ass. Then he realizes what an idiot he's being. His cheeks flush hot and he straightens up with a self-deprecating grin. There's something in Sam's eyes... "I thought shaving sounded like a great idea," he says, "but now that I'd have to compete with the Calvin Klein model over there," he jerks his head at Alex, "I think I'll pass."

That gets a laugh. "Everyone looks better washed up but I like a bit of scruff," Sam says, rubbing a hand over his own, his eyes sparkling.

"Dinner's ready," Antony says, not loudly but enough that his voice carries. "Get your asses over here." He's dishing up plates, half taken over by a large piece of steak, the other with foil-wrapped baked potatoes. "There's veggies if you want them," he tells the new guys, nodding at the saucepan still simmering on the stove. "Green beans, they're pretty mushy though."

Ryan hangs back, waiting until each of their hosts has a full plate before he takes one for himself. He adds a scoop of mushy green beans and finds a seat, but his mind is hurtling into overdrive. Maybe he thought he saw some appreciation in Sam's eyes when they looked at each other during a relaxed moment. That's no big deal: he's happy to do some appreciating of his own. Like, the loveliness of Keira's face when she surprised him with a real smile. Or the powerful set of Antony's shoulders, outlined by his tight t-shirt. That makes just one more reason why Ryan is so wary of the man. And Ryan can definitely appreciate the impish sparkle in Sam's arresting blue eyes, particularly since mirth and joy were, of necessity, two of the emotional luxuries first to go.

But, _I like a bit of scruff_ , really? Surely Sam wasn't just talking about his personal styling choices.

"Mm. This is _so_ good," Luke tells Antony after his first bite of steak. Fuck. It's plain and simple, the meat cooked without any seasoning but his body's screaming _protein!_ and he moans softly as he takes another bite.

"Thanks," Antony nods, digging into his own meal. He doesn't tend to talk any more than he has to, and all he did was throw the steaks on the stove and keep an eye on the potatoes Keira wrapped.

Sam takes a minute to make sure everyone's seated and tosses some packets of salt and pepper in the middle of the table before shooing Keira over and taking a place beside Ryan. "What kind of weapons experience do you have?" he asks bluntly but softly, intending his question for Ryan alone since it's obvious Alex and Luke regard him as their leader.

It would shock Ryan to know that Sam thinks of him so. "We've got decent experience. Alex and I were both military. We don't have much of an armory, though," he confesses with regret. "We have a couple machetes, knives, a Ka-bar. Two Glocks and a Sig Sauer, but we're running out of 9-mm bullets." His paranoia pipes up that he's being a complete fucking idiot, giving away this kind of information so easily, and he's not even being tortured. No, quite the reverse: the shower, the clean clothing, the food, the shelter... He's having a tough time maintaining his hyper-suspicious edge. Perhaps Sam and his crew will kill them with kindness, ha. And perhaps Ryan is fatigued enough to let them... "A Kimber, a Ruger. An M24, and a couple more 51 millimeters, but only one more long-action cartridge." He looks at Antony as he talks, curious about his sniper gear. "Your Tactical is gorgeous. How many magazines do you have left?"

"Five," Antony says, watching Sam and Ryan. If Sam trusts the guy then fine he'll trust him too but he's not giving away all their secrets. "But there's a base on the way to where we're going. I figure we can get more."

Ryan glances at Alex to see whether he's paying attention, and Alex nods slightly. "What's the strategy for tomorrow?"

Sam outlines their plans with some input here and there from Antony. Buddy system, have each other's flanks, Antony will take point once they're most of the way through... use the firethrower at this end, knifes and machetes as much as they can inside the tunnels, resorting to guns if the numbers are bigger than expected. Anyone in cars gets left, they're not trying to clear the tunnel, just make it through. "And once we're through, we'll find shelter on the other side and regroup."

Alex nods as he listens, able to picture their plan of attack... mostly. "How will we see when we're inside? You mentioned headlamps. Do you have enough of those for us, too?"

Sam nods. "We have extras, enough for all of us and a couple extras in case we lose any," he says. He looks at Luke. Nods at both Alex and Ryan. "They have military backgrounds. What about you?"

"Not military, no," Luke says, swallowing a bite of steak. "But my gransha used to take me hunting in Wales all through my childhood. Game hunting," he specifies. "I'm a good shot but I'm used to rifles and I can handle a handgun or knife. I wouldn't be the one to give a flamethrower to though," he adds with a laugh.

"The tunnel's a mile long," Alex says, recalling what Luke told them from the map. "When you've gone scouting, how deep inside could you see?"

"Not far at all," Sam says. "The overhang at each end is pretty large so maybe a car length?"

Tipping his head back, Ryan drinks the last of his water. Then he just sits in thought for a moment. "A car length," he muses, "at the front of a mile. Fuck. So there's no way to tell what we'll find inside. How thick they'll be." The uncertainty is damn near unbearable, but it's the fucking new reality. "All right. Whose buddy am I?"

"Mine," Sam says, ignoring the look Antony gives him, "and Keira's with Antony which means you two," he nods at Alex and Luke, "are together. That work?"

Seeing as how Alex'd had zero intention of letting anyone split the two of them up, he decides to let Sam feel like he's won this one. "Yeah, I guess. Fine," he says, and bumps Luke's knee under the table. "Are we leaving at dawn?"

Sam nods. "Headlamps stay off until we've cleared the walkers outside," he says, using the term he's heard Ryan and his group use. "If we run into trouble before we even get in the tunnel _or_ if we decide whatever's inside is too much, we'll pull back to here."

"Who makes that call?" Ryan asks, studying Sam. His posture, his expressions. The way he gestures with his hands when he speaks. "Who's in command?"

"I am," Antony says, finishing the last bite of his steak.

"All right." Ryan had expected it to be Sam, since he's been doing all the talking, but regardless he had no intention of challenging him. Mostly he just wanted to make sure there _would_ be one person they all know to rely on for big snap decisions like whether to retreat. "You were Special Forces, Sam said?"

Leaning back in his chair, long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, Alex could be a study in laidback posture. But he's listening attentively, and watching Antony's face. It bugs him that the guy almost never speaks; makes him nervous that he can't get a handle on him at all.

Antony looks at Sam.

Sam shrugs. Close enough. It's not exactly what he said but it's an easy enough leap to make.

Antony nods. "I have been," he says, rising to his feet with his plate which he dumps in a garbage bag. "Let's go over our stash. I assume you two," he nods at Alex and Luke again, "still want to shower and we shouldn't be running the water too late."

"Yeah. I'll get that done now." Alex takes a last swig of water and cleans up likewise. "Dinner was awesome, thanks." He very carefully doesn't look at Luke when he heads into the shower corner. He doesn't know whether his lover would be comfortable with people knowing about their relationship, but so far it seems like they're all playing things close to the vest.

"What have you been using?" Sam asks Luke after he dumps his plate in the trash. Luke shows him the weapons he's been carrying and Antony nods at the handgun and hunting knife but switches out his rifle for something more powerful, giving him a crash course in all the extra features as well as several clips of extra ammo.

Sam turns his attentions to Ryan while Antony's taking care of Luke. "You said you were short on 9-mms?" He hands over a couple boxes.

Ryan raises an eyebrow at the sudden jackpot in his hands. "Thanks," he says, and shines a bemused grin at Sam. "Did you lot knock over an army base?"

Sam laughs. "Actually, we did," he grins back. "We also had a Hummer until we hit that fucking wall of walkers southeast of here."

"Nice." Ryan nods, his smile widening. Pulling out his Glock, he starts reloading the clip. "Can I ask you..." he says quietly, after a quick glance around reassures him that there's no one close enough to overhear, "what do you think our odds are tomorrow? The six of us?"

"I think they're pretty good actually," Sam says, leaning back against the table. "I figure the cars are all jammed in there and while walkers are good at getting into places, they're not good at getting out so we have the movement advantage. As long as we all keep calm, follow Antony's lead and just keep moving forward, we'll make it. And of course we have to be prepared for surprises, but we're used to surprises."

Ryan gnaws gently on his bottom lip as he considers Sam's words. "And there's no reason to suspect that there might be flooding? That the structural integrity might have been compromised at all?" He snicks the full cartridge into place and checks the gun's safety. "Sorry, I'm asking you for a bunch of details I know you likely don't have. I just hate going in so blind. We didn't even know... We were expecting a fucking bridge."

"It's okay." Sam flashes Ryan a small smile. "It shouldn't have been. That tunnel's been around a long time. Short of someone actually detonating something in there, which I doubt they did – I think we'd see stress fractures in the surface at the least – it should be solid."

"All right." Exhaling softly, Ryan consciously lets go of some of his fears. They'll still lurk in the corners of his mind, but he knows that, at a certain point, some things need to just be taken on faith. Faith in himself, faith in his team. He watches Sam's eyes, really letting himself look into the blue depths. Noting the tiny laugh lines framing them. And he nods once in acceptance. "Where do we sleep?"

"There's three mattresses, more sleeping bags," Sam says, gesturing towards them. "We've all had our own but with you guys joining us... Alex and Luke can have one," he says, giving Ryan a small look. Yeah, despite their best efforts _that_ hasn't escaped him. "Keira can move in with Antony," who gives him a look. "And you can bunk with me. Unless you want to sleep on the floor or with Antony," he grins. "And I'll take Keira."

The pairing of Alex and Luke makes Ryan's brow furrow – dammit, he _tried_ – but he figures he can do no more than keep his mouth shut on the subject.

"I'm not entirely convinced Antony doesn't want to stab us in our sleep," Alex murmurs, having come up just in time to hear the sorting order. "So, yeah. Luke and I'll share." He raises an eyebrow, watching Sam closely while he rakes his fingers through his damp hair, but he can't feel any overt hostility boiling off the man. Nothing more than the tenseness which seems to be SOP for all of them.

Sam laughs. "I can see how you'd get that impression," he says, "but he's loyal to a fault and if he didn't like you, you'd already be dead." He calls over his shoulder, but not too loudly. "Luke. Your turn with the shower. Last one tonight." Hell, it might be a couple of nights or even weeks before they get another chance but his team had theirs last night.

Once Ryan is wrapped up in his sleeping bag, he lies back, head pillowed on one arm and his unfocused gaze tracing the beams of the warehouse ceiling far overhead. "It's too bad about food," he muses quietly. "How we need to find a place where we can grow crops, raise animals... Because right here, now? This feels like the lap of luxury."

"No shit," Alex replies, likewise settling in a couple meters away. "Dude, we ate _steak_." It was undoubtedly the best fucking steak of his life.

Keira's turned in too, asleep the moment her head hit the mattress, while Antony does one more check of their weapons and packs and Sam walks the perimeter, making sure they're good to completely relax. No one needs to take a watch here, thank god.

Luke comes down from the bathroom, yawning into his hand, and unzips the sleeping bag beside Alex's. "Who's waking us?"

"I don't know. But I don't think they'll let us oversleep." Alex smiles at Luke, and wonders whether he should tell him that Sam suspects their relationship. Nah, he'll tell him later. That crucial undefined _later_ , once everyone else is asleep.

Sam waits until Antony's turned in before he strips his shirt and jeans off, slipping into his sleeping bag in his shorts. He can't stand sleeping in his clothes when he doesn't have to and the sleeping bag's nice and warm. "You good?" he asks Ryan, before blowing out the last candle and leaving them in a inky darkness broken only by the faintest moonlight sneaking through those upper windows.

"Yeah. Thanks." It's a lie. Now that the lights are out, Ryan's anxiety of earlier settles in more deeply. He wonders whether he'll feel like he can trust Sam and his mates once they fight their way through the tunnel tomorrow. Wonders whether he should even bother worrying about it, since he's privately giving them 50/50 odds at best. Fed up, he shuts his eyes and orders himself to sleep.

Sam watches Ryan's profile in the dark. Blows out a soft breath. He would have sworn there was something between them earlier but now he thinks he just imagined it. Wishful thinking. Fuck.

Luke lies still in his sleeping bag, listening to the sounds around him. The quiet from outside, the tunnel far enough away they can't hear the walkers. He checks his watch in the cover of his sleeping bag. Ten minutes passing, then twenty...

Sam watches Ryan a little longer, the urge to jerk off quietly, help himself find sleep one he ignores. Finally he turns over, closing his eyes and counting sheep.

Thirty minutes, forty... They didn't say who was going to give the signal and Luke thinks Alex might be lying there, like him, waiting, until he shifts a little closer and hears the steady rise and fall of the other man's breathing. Damn. For a minute he considers just letting Alex sleep but who knows when they might have this chance again. Instead he quietly reaches over and nudges his shoulder.

Alex comes awake in an instant, sitting bolt upright in his sleeping bag and reaching for his knife. There's no obvious threat, and he whips his head around to scan the warehouse... And there's Luke. With a bashful smile Alex resheathes his knife, then scrambles as quietly as he can out of his sleeping bag and up the stairs to the washroom.

Luke follows a moment later, tip-toeing between the mattresses and up the stairs. He slips into the washroom and shuts the door behind him.

Antony starts to get up, his senses always on alert. He still doesn't know if he can trust the other group – they've yet to prove themselves – and here's two of them going off again.

"Psst," Sam whispers, having been roused in the stillness by the movement between the mattresses. "Go back to sleep. They're just fucking."

Antony huffs out a breath. "Seriously?" he whispers back.

"Yeah." Sam sighs. "Just go back to sleep."

Alex carefully lays down his weapons – the ones he insists on sleeping with, anyway – and grins when Luke comes through the door. There's just enough moonlight filtering through that he can see his lover, and he holds out his hand.

"I almost let you sleep," Luke whispers, taking Alex's hand and letting his lover reel him in.

"I'm glad you didn't. I would've been so furious with myself tomorrow morning." Alex wraps his arms around Luke. And even though he feels time ticking away like a bomb, he doesn't let himself rush. Breathes in, confident that he looks and smells decent for once. He brushes his lips slowly over Luke's in a shimmering kiss.

"Mm." Luke savours the moment, the touch, the intimacy. He sweeps his tongue over Alex's mouth in return, licking between his lips and shifting closer, his body already humming with arousal.

Alex's fists clench, the embrace tightening before he forces himself to let go. Turns his attention towards working Luke's clothes open.

Luke helps Alex, shedding his jeans and his shirt as quickly as he can before starting in on Alex's clothes. They may have the luxury of security, which they haven't had before, but if anyone decides they need to use the washroom? "You are so hot," he whispers. "You were hot before, even grubby and looking like a wild man, but now... you blow my mind."

With a soft laugh, Alex tugs Luke down to the floor to stretch out on their discarded clothing pile. "You're saying that, in a pinch, the grubby wild man look works for you?" He straddles his lover and leans down to take a long taste of his throat.

"On you? Yes," Luke nods, laughing softly then moaning at Alex's mouth on his throat.

Gradually Alex works his way down, licking and sucking, pleasing himself with every decadent moment. Learning the curve of his lover's shoulder, and the way his nipples pebble when teased. Under different circumstances, he could happily do this for hours on end. "I swore to myself," he whispers, sliding his hand over Luke's hip, "that I wouldn't die before getting my tongue in your ass."

Luke drags his nails over Alex's back, making soft noises of pure pleasure at every touch. And then Alex says that. He swallows hard, a shiver running through his frame. He's not sure he trusts himself to stay quiet but he's not about to say no. "Do you want me to turn over?"

Fuck, such gorgeous words. "If you're okay with that plan. Yeah, I do want you to."

Luke shifts under Alex, turning and pushing up onto all fours, his cock hanging between his thighs, thick and swollen, already wet at its tip.

So incredibly hot. Alex growls at the sight, at the gorgeous clean lines of his lover's body as he surrenders. He lays his hands on Luke's ass, spreading his cheeks and dipping in for a taste.

"Oh fuck," Luke moans, quickly biting back anything louder than whimpers, his legs spread wider.

 _You will remember me. Forever._ The desire – the _need_ to indelibly imprint himself on Luke's psyche drives Alex with single-minded intensity. He stabs into his lover again and again, tongue-fucking him without mercy. Slicking his index finger with spit and pushing that inside too to rub against his prostate.

Luke drops to his elbows, his mouth muffled against the inside of his arm as he curses and moans, his cock steadily dripping. He can't even remember the last time someone did this to him. Certainly not Paul. "Please, fuck..." he blurts out, unable to help himself.

Another soft growl, deep and feral. Alex won't stop the assault until his lover comes.

That growl. Fuck. It twists something inside him. Hard. And Luke goes over, body seizing tight as his cock spurts hot and thick over and over.

Alex slips his finger out but drops his forehead to Luke's back. He's breathless, messy. Swipes his hand over his mouth but can't be bothered to do more than that. He's so aroused right now he can't think beyond that anyway.

Panting softly, Luke whispers, "You should fuck me."

"...It'll hurt you," Alex replies, once he manages to wrap his brain around the suggestion.

"I don't care," Luke says, shaking his head. "Who knows when we'll get another chance and I want to feel you inside me."

Alex groans, every last bit of free will collapsing. Not that he fought all that hard to start with. He draws his thumbs down Luke's crack, hesitating long enough to ask, "Vaseline?"

Luke curses under his breath. "It's downstairs," he says. "Check under the sink."

Turning, Alex yanks open the vanity cabinet, revealing a scant mess of drain cleaner bottles and cans of scouring powder. His brain immediately clicks into gear, cataloguing the offerings and evaluating their respective usefulness – but hell, not _now!_ He shoves the bottles aside and finds a promising jar. "Yes," he hisses, removing the lid and scooping up petroleum jelly. He pushes a slick finger inside Luke, and after a bare instant he adds a second.

He may have already come but Luke still moans as those long fingers push inside him, stretching his body open. He pushes back, his cock throbbing still at the thought of Alex inside him again. That huge thick cock. Fuck.

Everything in Alex seems to knot tight, wrenching through his body. He slicks himself, aching at the touch, and then spreads Luke's hole once more. Caressing the sensitive ring to coax his lover's body to open for him. Working himself inside with a gasp.

Luke shudders, his still hard cock jerking sharply. "... so big," he whispers but it's not a complaint. God no.

"Nah." Alex grins faintly, crookedly, shutting his eyes and focusing on physical sensation, electric shocks of pleasure tingling through him. "You're so – _fuck_ – so gorgeously fucking tight." A deep thrust and he bottoms out with a gasp, holding there for a second. Buried inside his lover. He begins to rock his hips, burying himself again and again.

Luke makes a sound like he's been gutted and grabs for his t-shirt, shoving it in his mouth, every noise made as Alex fucks him poured into the fabric.

"You okay?" Alex whispers, although he still thrusts, slow and steady.

Luke nods, reaching behind him to squeeze Alex's hand. He pushes back, into Alex's thrusts, urging him on. God. One of these days they'll be able to do this where no one else can hear them and Alex will know _exactly_ how okay he is.

Relief flushes through him, and Alex smiles again. He wishes they could take this slow. "Someday," he whispers, picking up speed, rocking deep into his lover. Sparks of lust shock through him. "Slow. Someday." But definitely not right now.

Luke moans into his t-shirt, bracing his hands against the floor, their clothes, anything to keep from being pushed forward. His hole aches, the thrusts on the verge of painful but the fullness, god, it's so good, it almost makes him want to cry. _Fuck, yes…_

In the span of an instant, Alex's self-control snaps. He struggles to swallow his shout as ecstasy floods him, washing through his veins like liquid gold. His climax leaves him gasping for breath, clutching his lover like a lifeline.

Pulling the t-shirt from his mouth, Luke drops his head to the floor, his ass still in the air, his hole clenching convulsively around Alex's cock. "Fuck," he breathes, licking his lips. "One of these days, I swear... we'll have a bed." And the time to do every single thing they could ever want to do with each other.

"Uh-huh." Communicating using actual words seems out of the question just yet. Shaky, Alex slowly pulls out of his lover and sits back on the cold tile floor. "Your knees okay?"

Luke sits up, dropping to one hip and nods. "My knees are fine. I'm not so sure about our clothes," he says with a soft laugh.

"Yeah, right. Because they were so fancy yesterday." Alex cracks a grin, exhaustion settling deep into his bones. "Come on," he says, and manages to push to his feet, gathering up his shirt and jeans, "we need all the sleep we can get before dawn."


End file.
